


send the elder seedseer my regards

by Chamomile



Series: A Moment in Time [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, no beta we die like louisoix, sometimes you have to cook your own comfort food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chamomile/pseuds/Chamomile
Summary: There were few things in the world Merlwyb took joy in these days, the most well-known of which was wine.Her other source of joy was a secret that she would take to the grave with her.Merlwyb, Kan-E, and a garden on the rooftops of Limsa Lominsa.[Takes place after the events of 5.4, MSQ spoilers.]
Relationships: Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn/Kan-E-Senna
Series: A Moment in Time [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/823251
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	send the elder seedseer my regards

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! it's been a while! 5.4 was very good to me and i told myself that if merlwyb made any mention of gridania or kan-e, i would write 10 pages of fanfiction for it, so here we are.
> 
> another reason i enjoyed 5.4 was because of the subtext involving merlwyb wanting to make peace with the beast tribes... she made such a quick turn on that after being so stubborn about in 2.2 that i honestly don't think she made this decision by herself over the course of time between 2.2 and 5.4; i do think merlwyb got inspiration from a certain grand company leader who actually gets along with and advocates peace towards the beast tribes...thus this story.
> 
> i'm a bit rusty, but i do hope you enjoy it! it was an absolute joy to write these ladies again.

There were few things in this world Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn could take joy in these days.

From time to time, she recalled her carefree youth, the halcyon days spent sailing and plundering with her crew, exploring uncharted waters…and, of course, the duels that used to set her heart racing a malm a minute… Part of her _did_ appreciate that the pirate phase of her life had long since ended, that she could spend the rest of her days in Limsa Lominsa if she so chose. Every pirate, no matter how much they adored Llymlaen’s tides, longed for the embrace of dry land eventually.

Yet the explorer’s blood would run through her veins until her dying day, she knew—as much as she enjoyed her time as Admiral, there would always be a string of days where her younger self took hold of her again, where she would yearn for the freedom she once knew as captain of the League of Lost Bastards.

But as sure as the sunrise in the east, Storm Marshal Slafyrsyn would have her head if she dared to do anything other than the usual paperwork these days. (She would clarify, this was not because he wished to keep Merlwyb sequestered in Limsa Lominsa, but because _he_ was the one forced to deal with the veritable mountain of paperwork and stuffy meetings that piled up whenever she went on one of her little jaunts.) She had nothing but respect for the man and his drive to improve Limsa Lominsa, though unlike Merlwyb, the once-famous Mistbeard had no intention of ever returning to the seas that brought him fame and glory.

This was why, when Slafyrsyn suggested Merlwyb take an evening to herself after the recent ordeal with the Scions and Kobolds, she was compelled to slap the man across the face to make sure he wasn’t drunk when he made the suggestion.

“I assure you, Admiral, I have my wits about me,” he grinned at the time. “The Maelstrom has no pressing business with the Kobolds as of yet, but I assure you, you will be busy before long. We have made more progress with them this past week than we have in six bloody years. If we are to negotiate peace, an evening’s worth of your paperwork is a small price to pay if I know you are well-rested for what is to come.”

She would have vehemently argued against it, had he not handed over a brilliant crimson bottle of Shamani Lohmani’s newest red, which was one of those few remaining things Merlwyb could take unadulterated joy in.

“The night is yours,” he said. “Make of it what you will.”

So it was that Merlwyb found herself on the high rooftop of the stateroom, a wide, white brick deck with a small table made just for her, dyed in twilight. She sat with a glass of wine in hand, the brilliant crystal reflecting the solemn sunset into the blood-red masterpiece of a drink.

The evenings where she could relax from the rooftops and watch the hustle and bustle of her city-state were few and far between, but they were a treasure to her nonetheless. She gazed down upon her citizens as though she was discovering them for the first time, pride spreading through her just as fast as the warmth from the wine. Though it had been many years since she last explored the seas as a captain, the good ship Limsa Lominsa still sailed on, thanks in part to her efforts.

Indeed, her city was much more pleasant to look down upon than the ominous pillar that plagued the distant horizon, the harrowing sign that reminded her that this past week had not been some fleeting fever dream.

She would admit, after all that had transpired—the Scions’ cure for tempering, the duel with Sicard, the brush with death at the Navel—she hadn’t felt this exhilarated within her own borders in years. A pang of guilt grew within her as she recalled it all, but no one could deny that having your own pistol pointed against you brought about a greater rush of blood and adrenaline than any treaty or busywork could ever do.

She only wished that she could have held onto that euphoria and kept it with her to spread to every pirate and fishwife who called Limsa home, but the reports from Ala Mhigo dampened any semblance of progress or celebration that would have, during calmer times, taken the city-state by storm. All who read the dire, desperate scrawl on its pages could see from malms away that a new threat would cross the Eorzean Alliance’s path soon enough. The thought alone made her want to toss her glass into the ocean and down the whole bottle of Shamani Lohmani’s finest while no one was looking. Perhaps she would have, had the wine been some run-of-the-mill grog from the Drowning Wench, but the Admiral had better sense than that.

She took a small sip, savoring the chorus of sour and sweet, the view from the high balconies of her city anchoring her to reality. The crowds flowed in and out like tides, from the flood of adventurers at the aetheryte plaza playing instruments and reveling in the crowds, to the Maelstrom officers discussing politics on the higher decks. A calming sight, as ever…until a figure in white shot through the upper crowds and caught her eye, a tidal wave among the calm. The mysterious character rushed past the guards in a panic, the latter of which nearly jumped at the sight of the long white robes and golden hair.

Merlwyb blinked, blindsided and baffled by the first thought that came to mind. She placed her glass on the table, leaning forward to get a closer look at the young woman who was running up the decks for dear life.

“Seven hells, is that…?” she muttered to herself upon eyeing the woman dashing up the stairs. White robes. Golden hair. _Horns._

A sigh escaped the Admiral’s lips, but the smile on her face could not have been more genuine. She shook her head, knowing full well what was to come.

Yes, there were few things in the world Merlwyb took joy in these days, the most well-known of which was wine.

Her other source of joy was a secret that she was like to take to the grave with her.

The door slammed open as if on cue to reveal Kan-E-Senna, flushed and breathless from her hasty ascent up the great many flights of stairs. As the door closed behind her, she nearly sank to the ground in exhaustion, her heavy breaths and glossy gaze telling a story all their own.

Almost instinctively the Admiral ran up to her, kneeling down to meet the Elder Seedseer’s petit frame.

“I…I received the full report today,” Kan-E told her between labored breaths, “Foolish though it was, I boarded the first airship that would allow me passage…”

“The officer relayed my message to you, then,” Merlwyb said.

Kan-E nodded, her voice beginning to quiver behind tears. “Had I known your path to peace would be so fraught with peril, I would have accompanied you. ‘Twas I who urged you to seek these negotiations, yet it nearly cost you your life—”

The Padjal’s voice faded into nothing as Merlwyb closed the gap between them, her hand gently framing the smaller woman’s cheek as they pulled each other in. Kan-E tasted of faerie apples and sunlight and _home,_ in some strange way… It was a remarkable sense of comfort that even the finest wines could never bring her. Each time they found themselves together like this, Merlwyb became captivated at the way she wanted to love this woman and give her all the care in the world despite the distance that usually kept them apart. Few in the realm had ever bested her, but of all people, the Elder Seedseer, with her unfaltering bravery and unending warmth, had managed to do just that.

“’Tis good to see you again, Kan-E,” Merlwyb grinned as the two parted, placing one more gentle kiss on the Padjal’s bright-red cheek and offering her hand, “I fear you won’t be rid of me just yet.”

“Thank the Twelve you are unhurt,” Kan-E said, taking the Admiral’s hand as they stood, gently falling into her arms.

“You longed for my presence that much, did you?” Merlwyb raised an eyebrow, laughing, “Perhaps I should risk life and limb more often.”

“You shall do _no such thing,”_ Kan-E let go of her, arms crossed, “Or would you prefer my wrath over that of a primal?”

“I would choose a battle of wits with you over a primal any day,” Merlwyb smirked, “I know far more of your weaknesses than theirs.”

“If you insist, then I suppose I have no choice,” Kan-E settled into the words, taking Merlwyb’s hand back into her own, “But I forget myself. I trust I am not disturbing your work?”

“Not in the least,” Merlwyb began, “The good marshal saw fit to give me an evening to myself. Wine makes for good company, though I would prefer yours if you’ve no pressing business back in Gridania.”

“I would not have come all this way if I did,” Kan-E nodded, “I am all yours.”

“Then come,” Merlwyb gently pulled at Kan-E’s hand. “Walk with me.”

* * *

The upper towers of Limsa Lominsa were well-known, if not infamous, among the Alliance leaders. Raubahn once joked that it was “a labyrinth even more sinister than the Black Shroud,” a jest that even Kan-E found humorous, all those years ago. The long white stone halls seemed to stretch on forever, and if one didn’t know their bearings, they could end up on the other side of the city-state before they knew it.

Merlwyb, however, knew them as well as the many battle scars on her body (which is to say, quite well). Though she had let go of Kan-E’s hand earlier in their trek out of concern for prying eyes that might pass them by, the Elder Seedseer followed close behind, never once faltering or losing focus behind her ally.

The Admiral could tell there were moments where Kan-E wanted to stop and stare at the view of the city from the smaller, wide-windowed bridge halls, but both of them knew it was safer to avoid anyone else who would question the Elder Seedseer’s unannounced appearance in Limsa. Aside from the occasional direction, they spoke barely a word to each other, their footsteps echoing through the narrow pathways and corridors.

It did not take long before Merlwyb stopped at a gated hall, its black iron guarded by one of her Maelstrom soldiers.

“Admiral,” the Sea Wolf guard gave a customary salute, “Come to inspect the crop, have you? And you’ve brought a guest!”

“Aye,” Merlwyb replied. “What good is all our hard work if we cannot share it with our companions?”

“Well said,” laughed the soldier, fiddling with a key ring as she spoke, “The botanists have left for the evening, so feel free to spend as much time as you need.”

“You have my thanks,” the Admiral nodded, adding one more point: “Our guest is here on confidential business. Do ensure that no one else enters these grounds.”

“Understood,” the guard gave a smaller salute this time, opening the door for them, “Have a good evening, Admiral.”

Past the gate was a stone staircase leading up; Kan-E continued to follow Merlwyb up the stairs, giving a courteous smile of thanks to the young guard. Unlike the other halls and curling stairways, no windows or decorations adorned this tower. When Merlwyb spoke, she did so quietly, so as not to echo between the barren walls.

“This is where I keep one of my secrets,” she said simply, opening the gate as she climbed the final stair.

Bathed in the evening light was another spacious deck high above the city-state, fenced away with tall, flower-lined hedges and wild sunflowers that dared to reach even higher than the green barricade. Placed in rows around the center of the deck were large planter boxes and wooden trellises, wrapped in verdant vines. Falling at their center were bunches of colorful grapes; some hung light and purple like the sky at dawn, while others boasted bright green hues.

“A rooftop vineyard,” Kan-E beamed, looking up at her ally, “I did not take you for a botanist, Admiral.”

“I assure you, I am no such thing,” Merlwyb said. “Certainly not as much as yourself.”

“I myself am but a fledgling botanist in comparison to the masters at the Growery,” Kan-E laughed. “Full glad am I to see you take an interest in one of our trades.”

“’Tis more an interest in creating my own wine than anything else,” Merlwyb shrugged, “though it struck me that you might find some joy in it as well. I suppose I should be glad my hunch was right.”

Merlwyb gently beckoned Kan-E to follow her around the perimeter of the deck—the two strolled arm-in-arm, Kan-E’s eyes wide with interest at her ally’s secret hideaway.

“I ordered work on this a few moons back,” Merlwyb began, “Originally, I had planned to grow the grapes myself… Unfortunately, I am about as skilled with crops as a babbling babe, and had even less time to spare. Thus, I chose to commission Wineport’s finest to help manage the crop. I daresay it’s better than anything I could have accomplished on my own.”

“This secret of yours…” Kan-E murmured in awe, “I quite like it. I only regret I did not learn of it sooner.”

“I intended as much,” Merlwyb explained, “It was meant as a sort of…gift.”

“A gift, Admiral?”

“Yes, though I wish I could have given it under less…thorny circumstances. I can scarcely call it my own wine, considering I barely lifted a finger to see the crop through…though I wished to present the first bottle to you nonetheless.”

“Admiral,” Kan-E looked up to meet her ally’s gaze, her expression warm and calm like the evening sky above them, “I know not what I have done to deserve such a kindness.”

Merlwyb stopped in her tracks, taking a deep breath before she spoke again:

“’Tis not like you would recall it,” she explained, “but a number of moons ago, we spoke of the primal threat at an Alliance meeting.”

“Well do I remember it, in fact,” the Elder Seedseer spoke up. “Our ideas on how to address Limsa Lominsa’s quarrels with the beast tribes were as night and day.”

“Indeed they were,” the Admiral nodded, “the two of us were so resolved to disagree that even Her Grace had run out of patience.”

“I motioned that peace was our only option if we were to combat the Garlean threat,” Kan-E recalled, “yet you insisted that power determined the right of our allies and neighbors to live or die by the Empire’s cruelties. You had told Archon Y’shtola as much, and you would not be swayed differently.”

“There was a moment that day, at the end of it all…“

“…where I raised my voice with you?” Kan-E finished the Admiral’s thought, “I fear I still regret doing so—“

“You need not regret a word of it,” Merlwyb shook her head, “we would not be here had you not spoken them. How can we ever hope to change, you asked, if we continue to be blinded by the past—to become as isolated as we were in the days after the Calamity? What I aimed to accomplish, you said, was the definition of insanity—taking the same actions, learning not from history, but from my own hubris, and expecting to weather the same storm, as unarmed and unlearned as ever.”

“I found countless moments of solace in the inspiration and counsel you bestowed upon me over the years,” Kan-E continued, eyes downcast, “Full well did I understand your will to fight for your convictions more than any other in the Alliance, so much that it pained me to see that you had taken nothing from us—learned nothing from us—in return. Your struggle with Leviathan caused a rift between yourself and your comrades to grow and fester. I did not wish to see it grow any further, lest we find ourselves a broken Alliance. Even still, you would not listen to reason.”

“Her Grace was nearly ready to end the meeting, but you would not leave without the last word. You slammed that staff of yours on the floor of the Fragrant Chamber, all of us silenced by a sharpness in your voice we had yet heard in the Alliance’s six turbulent years. You met my gaze with such ferocity that I scarcely believed you were the one speaking.”

Merlwyb couldn’t help but smile, recalling the scene as sharply as she could:

“‘Admiral,’ you had said, ‘no longer is our Alliance the raging sea you once described it to Archon Y’shtola as—we shall stand united against the Garlean threat with or without you. But until I am certain your cause is lost to us, I care not if you choose to let me drown while you hunt for the survival you so dearly covet. For you, I shall take that risk gladly. Our present company may choose to call me mad if they wish, but I would still proffer out my hand to you in friendship with my dying breath.’ There were tears in your eyes as you spoke.”

“As I recall it, you were stunned speechless,” Kan-E said, “as was the whole Alliance. There was a deeper meaning to those words, I knew…a meaning they surely understood. I regretted conveying such a thing in the company of our allies. Much as we had argued it in the past, that moment seemed as if it would be my final opportunity to sway you.”

“We argued it countless times before, the two of us,” Merlwyb sighed, “yet you never backed down. Peace between ourselves and the beast tribes was the greater option, you always said. One that would doubtless benefit the entire realm.”

“’Twas a selfish request of me, yet I still thought it necessary,” Kan-E’s expression darkened, “When we first—when…all of this began, that year before the Warrior of Light returned, we vowed that we would not allow personal feelings to dictate our actions or influence us. But how could I ignore the steadfast courage and love for freedom that you so cherished? How could I not wish to improve myself to emulate the one I love…?”

“I refused the Black Wolf’s ultimatum,” she continued, “because _you_ stirred the nascent freedom within my soul: a desire for freedom that lives within all who call Eorzea home. I chose to take the front lines at Ala Mhigo because, like you, I wished to provide succor and fight for the Ala Mhigans’ cause, despite the rebukes I would receive from my countrymen. It was my hope that in doing so, my actions would speak as loud as my words…just like yours, Merlwyb.”

The Elder Seedseer’s voice began to tremble as she went on.

“Kan-E…”

“When you arrived in Gridania with your new proposal for peace in Vylbrand,” the Padjal recounted, blood rushing to her face, “it took everything in my power not to hold you in my arms and weep for joy in front of our allies. It was later that evening that you spoke to me of the long, sleepless hours you spent trying to find the words to apologize to us.”

“By then,” Merlwyb smirked, “I suppose I failed to uphold our vow, as well—perhaps we should have done so sooner, if we knew what we would learn from it. Selfish though you might think your words were, I could not have weathered this storm of a week without them to keep my head above the tides…and for that, you have my humblest thanks.”

“Would that I had known the tumult that would befall this place when your words took root and spread through Limsa Lominsa, ” Kan-E shook her head.

“After all you had done to change my mind, I could ill afford to fail,” the Admiral’s voice quieted, placing her hand on Kan-E’s pale cheek, wiping away the traces of oncoming tears, “I wanted you to understand.”

“You nearly sealed the promise of peace with your blood…did you not?”

“Aye, that I did.”

The Admiral’s solemn words hung heavily in the night air for a moment among the grapes and stars and sleeping sunflowers, and though she tried and fought against it, the Elder Seedseer could no longer contain her regret, her expression twisting into sadness, her voice choked into sobs as she buried herself into her ally’s embrace.

“You were a fool!” Kan-E sobbed, her voice muffled into Merlwyb’s uniform, “I should have accompanied you! I could have mended your wounds before they burned into scars! I know our duty must take precedence over ourselves, but I would never forgive myself if my words and deeds sowed the seeds of your death…!”

“…’Tis not your fault, my dear,” Merlwyb whispered into her ally’s hair, a melancholy laugh escaping her, “You and I knew our path would not be an easy one…but you have every right to resent my actions. I do not expect you to forgive me for it—”

“Try as I might after all this time,” Kan-E brought her tear-stained face back up and shook her head knowingly, warm emerald eyes meeting cold silver, “I could never bring myself to do anything but love you, Merlwyb.”

To see this side of the Elder Seedseer was something of a wonder, Merlwyb knew. The Padjal was indomitable in the face of hardship, her gentle smile warming the hearts of her allies and companions, but in these short instants where she was most vulnerable, where her true thoughts and feelings were laid bare, the Admiral could not help but resolve to keep loving her, to cherish the woman who she had watched grow from meek leader of Gridania to a fearless leader of the Alliance and her people. Though duty and distance served to bind them and keep them apart, Merlwyb welcomed the challenge.

She knelt down to meet Kan-E’s tearful visage once more, though she had not even been there a second before Kan-E pressed her lips against the Admiral’s—once, twice, each kiss as light and warm and blissful as the last. They parted under Lominsan starlight, their dimly-lit smiles and quiet laughter bringing them both the comfort they dearly needed.

They continued their stroll, finding a small bench at the edge of the vineyard, making merry and gazing at the stars and reminiscing all the while.

* * *

“When Death Penalty reached the hands of the Kobold patriarch, I closed my eyes, steeling myself for death,” Merlwyb began, looking up at the sky, “know you what I saw in that moment?”

Kan-E shook her head, rapt in the Admiral’s tale.

“For a fleeting instant, you stood before me, smiling and laughing as though I had just arrived in Gridania to visit you. I had thought, perhaps, if that was how I would spend my death…by your side in a shade of the Black Shroud I had conjured…I would have accepted it gladly.”

“You…saw me?”

“If the gods were kind, I would have reached out and taken your hand.”

“But you knew it was not truly me,” Kan-E added.

“Aye, simply a shade. The gunfire brought me back to reality…and the Warrior of Light ensured I remained there.”

“She protected you?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Merlwyb shrugged, “the lass gallivants around wearing your colors…that bright yellow and black uniform. As I walked back to the side of our allies, she stared right at me, as though she had witnessed the very same vision before the shot was fired.”

“The Echo…did it speak to her of the past?”

“I do not doubt it,” the Admiral crossed her arms, “The moment we returned, I told her to take pride in her victory, but the lass simply nodded to me with that teary-eyed smile of hers and thanked the gods I was alive. ‘For our sake, and for my lady’s.’ She spoke not another word of it.”

“Then our secret is in good hands, I should think,” Kan-E said, matter-of-factly, “Perhaps, if she is to ever venture to the Lotus Stand without her companions by her side, I shall ask her of it.”

“If such a day ever comes,” a grin grew on Merlwyb’s face, “I should like to be present… Warrior of Light or no, we must ensure her silence by any means necessary.”

“Are you simply looking for an excuse to duel her?” Kan-E asked, “I am sure she would be happy to. You need only ask.”

“In more peaceful times, perhaps,” Merlwyb replied, standing up from the bench and offering her hand to the smaller woman, “but the hour grows late. I have worried Slafyrsyn all too much this past week, and if he should find me missing I fear his old heart may not be able to take it.”

Kan-E gracefully took Merlwyb’s hand, determination written in her once tear-stained expression.

“Merlwyb.”

“Hm?”

“Before we depart, there is…something I would like to give you.”

The Admiral stood, puzzled as Kan-E let go of her hand and began to undo the clasps of the two ornaments that decorated her hair. Curled locks of gold began to fall past the Elder Seedseer’s shoulders, swaying gently in the ocean breeze as the ornaments dropped into her hands.

“I realize it pales in comparison to all you have done for me this evening, but…” Kan-E’s gaze fell to the ground as she presented the two blue leaves, “Pray take them with you, should you ever find yourself in battle again. Conceal them, do what you must—but if we are plagued with new hardships and I cannot reach you...know that wherever your travails take you, you have my love so long as I draw breath.”

Merlwyb held the small ornaments in her hands with the utmost care, gaze wandering between the two precious items and the Elder Seedseer’s current appearance…a weakness of hers after all these years, she would admit.

“You are sure of this, Kan-E?”

“I have another set in Gridania,” the Padjal reassured her, “If anyone has the right to take these from me…’tis undoubtedly you.”

“I shall treasure them,” the Admiral kept the ornaments in her hands, kneeling slightly to kiss Kan-E on the forehead. “You have my love as well.”

“Then if it please you, once your business is concluded…allow me to remain by your side. If only for the evening.”

“It would be my honor,” Merlwyb bowed courteously, offering her arm again. “Shall we?”

* * *

True to her word, Kan-E rose at first light, gathered her things, and left the city-state as swiftly as she had arrived.

Merlwyb, half-asleep at the time, recalled kind words and one final kiss on the forehead before the Elder Seedseer departed, her unkempt hair flowing behind her small frame as she took one look back at the groggy Admiral.

She finally awoke sometime in the late morning, still somewhat exhausted from the evening before, but found herself rested enough to sit down in the Stateroom and take on whatever logistical nightmares Slafyrsyn had left for her.

The Admiral entered to find her Storm Marshal hard at work, a small pile of papers next to him…likely with her name on it. 

“There you are,” he raised his head from the busywork, “I trust your meeting with the Elder Seedseer went well?”

“As well as it could have,” she replied, giving not a hint away, “But there is work to be done. What do you have for me?”

“More of the usual this morning, thank the gods,” Slafyrsyn told her, pulling out one loose paper from the pile, “ah, but there _was_ one matter that required your approval.”

The marshal placed the paper on her desk as she sat down and browsed it.

“A name for that new wine you plan on brewing,” he explained. “Seems the lads over at Wineport were asking after it for bottling purposes.”

For a brief moment, the blank space in the middle of the paper was almost daunting—but it did not take long for the Admiral to grab her quill and scrawl down a name, filling the space gracefully and carefully with the curves of the fresh letters:

_The Lady’s Favor._


End file.
